Just as Zul was wallowing in self-pity and grieving alone, a group of Nagas had already appeared right under their noses, slicker than a greased pig.
"Is that the dejected troll?" Lady Serpent Vashj, still in her serpentine glory, purred to the hulking brute beside her, who also happened to be her main squeeze.
Galen gazed at the dark prophet, who looked like he'd lost his last gold coin, smiled, and gave a hearty nod. "Yep, that's him. But don't let that sad-sack routine fool you. He used to pull the wool over the eyes of the God-King and Supreme Loa of the Zandalari Empire."
Galen, a self-proclaimed false prophet himself, still had a healthy dose of wariness when it came to the shadowy profession of prophecy. "If I hadn't practically begged the Naaru and M'noz'do to throw every time-bending spell they had at this world, locking down all future info like a dragon hoarding its gold, I wouldn't have been able to pull off this grand scheme against Zul."
Vashj nodded, a sly glint in her reptilian eyes. "I get it. This guy's got more tricks up his sleeve than a goblin tinkerer. I'll be locked and loaded to deal with him."
"Don't sweat it too much, my dear," Galen chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I've got nothing better to do. I can tag along and play with Zul myself."
Galen then dramatically pulled a blood-red gem from his robes. With a surge of arcane power, his human form began to ripple and shift. Moments later, a monstrous figure emerged: a male naga, lower half a coiled serpent, upper half a hulking, humanoid torso covered in vibrant scales. Its face was a grotesque, draconic mask with tentacles writhing from its cheeks.
"Now, my esteemed mistress," he boomed, his voice a low growl, "I am your most trusted and relied-upon lieutenant, the Naga's Deep Water Lord Karathreth!"
Vashj took a long, appraising look at the admittedly ugly Naga Lord, a smirk playing on her blue-gray face. "Well then, my dear adjutant, let's go meet the first wise man of the trolls, the Prophet Zul!"
Vashj twisted her slender waist, a picture of seductive grace, and swaggered towards the trolls' temporary camp. Galen, in his newly acquired male Naga form, a rough warhammer slung across his back, followed close behind. After scaling a two-meter rise, he grandly waved a hand, signaling the dozen or so Naga thugs behind him to follow, looking every inch the dedicated adjutant.
The slithering of dozens of Nagas was quickly picked up by the troll patrol. This group of startled birds, looking like they'd seen a ghost, let out a nervous roar and peered into the dark jungle.
"Respected Prophet, is this how you welcome your allies?"
From the inky blackness, the seductive voice of the Serpent Lady slithered forth, and then the troll soldiers saw her: a Naga with a head full of writhing snake-hair.
The Prophet and Yazma looked warily at the Nagas emerging into the dim light.
Zul sneered, "Allies? You didn't even bother to RSVP when I sent out the invitation!"
Zul and Queen Azshara had been playing cat and mouse for a while. Back in the day, one was trying to rebuild the Zandalari Empire, and the other was making a grand return to the land. They'd even tried to play nice, proving their "sincerity." For instance, the Nagas had given the Tortollans the boot from the Zandalari islands and taken over Lo'agrol's temple, rummaging around for ancient god relics.
"Prophet..." Vashj's expression turned as sour as curdled milk. "Couldn't you foresee our future?"
Those words hit Zul like a gut punch. It was true; he hadn't seen a single future vision in years. But before Zul could even process that, Vashj dropped a bombshell that blew his socks off.
"The Naga Empire... it's gone! Kaput! Done for!" Ms. Viper's face looked as pitiful as a lost puppy, and Galen, watching from the wings, gave her a silent thumbs-up.
"No way!" Zul roared, completely blindsided. Others might be in the dark about the underwater Nagas, but Zul, the all-seeing prophet, knew their score. Besides the old-timer demigod Queen Azshara, there was a being even more terrifying than G'huun pulling their strings. Plus, the Nagas were practically invincible in the ocean, their capital deep below, solid as a rock. And now, the queen's most trusted maid waltzes in and says the Naga Empire is toast? "Are you pulling my leg?!"
"I don't joke with the Queen!" Vashj glared at Zul, her theatrical anger a sight to behold. This was the one true line in her whole elaborate script. If he didn't buy that, how was she going to sell him the rest of her fish story?
Zul eyed Ms. Viper and asked, "Who in the blazes did this?"
"The Alliance!" Vashj spat, her voice dripping with venom. "High King Galen Trollbane himself, along with the Demon Hunter Illidan, Tortheldrin of Nar'thalas, and Elisande of Suramar!"
Zul snorted, "What a grand rebellion... Does Her Majesty regret personally giving these magic princes an inch, only for them to take a mile?"
Zul was convinced Queen Azshara was still alive; that prominent figure wouldn't just bite the dust so easily. "So, spill it. What do you want from a washed-up loser like me? As you can see, I'm a lost dog right now. My few hundred loyal followers aren't even a patch on your Naga warriors."
Aha! Vashj knew this was it. The moment of truth. Whether she could play Zul like a fiddle hinged on what came next.
"The Hell Dragon Sinestra and you, you two were thick as thieves once upon a time." Vashj's face turned grim. "After she kicked the bucket up north, all the remaining power in the Twilight Bastion fell right into your lap. And now you've been beaten, G'huun's sealed up again, and all this can't be done by relying on just the Zandalari trolls and those two dying tribes, the Gurubashi and Amani!"
Zul remained silent, listening intently.
"And as far as I know, the Gurubashi and Amani have already jumped ship and joined the Alliance!" Vashj's snake-like hair suddenly bristled, a clear sign of her theatrical rage. "Prophet, you know our master N'Zoth is dead, and the Nagas, just like you, are being hunted down by the Alliance like common criminals!"
"So," Zul said, his face a poker mask. He'd been in the Zanshuli Parliament for a hundred years, an old politician through and through. No emotion dared to show.
"Her Majesty won't let the Alliance get away with this, not on your life." Vashj cracked a sly smile. "Her Majesty's found a new ally, one that can bring the Alliance to its knees. They have the power to help us conquer the world!"
"And you, revered prophet, you'll revive the Zandalari Empire with their help, instead of being like your former king, sucking up to Galen Trollbane and clinging to a glory that's gone to dust, bowing and scraping!"
Everything said before was just the warm-up act. This last sentence was the knockout punch! A flash of raw ambition flickered in Zul's eyes!
As time marched on, with the glorious completion of the second five-year plan, the folks of all races in the Alliance of Azeroth had a peaceful and happy Winter Veil Festival. What followed was the Thirty Years After the Dark Portal.
For the first three months of that year, while the Alliance countries looked calm on the surface, their leaders were secretly gathering troops and guarding the weak spatial nodes in their territories like a hawk guarding its nest.
Stromgarde's new palace was in the southwest of the city. This ancient palace wasn't all glitz and glam like Lordaeron's, but a towering military fortress, much like Stormwind Keep. At this very moment, Galen stood on the royal palace fortress wall, gazing at the Palatine Bay to the south. Thousands of sails dotted the calm blue sea, a riot of green, blue, white, and red canvases painting a picture of prosperity.
"You're here, Galen."
Behind him, Alleria and Sylvanas approached, hand in hand.
"You're not hiding from Jaina and my little sister, are you?" Sylvanas sidled up to Galen, tilting her head and giving him a suspicious once-over.
Galen's heart did a little flip, but he kept his poker face firmly in place. "If my calculations are anything to go by, old man Zul's little stunt should be kicking off in the next day or two." Galen sighed. "After Vashj leads him by the nose to complete his master plan, our prosperous scene might hit a rough patch for a while."
Alleria turned to look at Galen. "You hit it out of the park in that meeting. Varian and the others are going to run with your plan like it's a gold medal."
"Exactly. You're so sentimental, it's not the Galen I've grown to like," Sylvanas huffed, a mix of dissatisfaction and pride in her voice. "We've been cooking this up for years. We've pulled out all the stops. This time, the Burning Legion is going down for the count!"
Galen burst out laughing. "Honestly, I don't give a hill of beans about the Burning Legion's invading forces, whether there are hundreds of thousands, millions, or tens of millions of them!" The Burning Legion was a galactic powerhouse, sure, but even they had to spread their forces thin. The number of troops Kil'jaeden could actually throw at them was limited. "They've got a lot of demons, but I've got a whole army!"
"What I'm really chewing on is the counterattack plan! After all, this is our first interstellar expedition. Only the Draenei have any experience in this kind of future war."
Holy smokes, a battleship alone could carry tens of thousands of landing troops. If a few ships got shot down on the way, nearly a hundred thousand troops would be gone, just like that. This wasn't just about money, mind you. The Alliance warriors needed time to grow, and it took time for Galen to level up 100,000 combat units.
"Maybe we need an infiltration force!" Galen stroked the short beard that had just started to sprout on his chin. After becoming a demigod, his body was locked in at a lean twenty-five. Unlike the locals who loved a good beard, Galen always kept his chin and cheeks smooth as a baby's bottom.
"I'll lead the team!" As soon as Alleria finished speaking, Sylvanas was eyeing her sister with a vigilant stare.
"Heh, I haven't been in the thick of it for years. As a younger sister, how dare you try to steal your elder sister's thunder?" Alleria quipped, a playful challenge in her voice.
"Tsk, I've cut you enough slack already!" Sylvanas retorted, hinting at something deeper.
"So what? One thing at a time!" Watching the two sisters start to squabble over the mission, Galen breathed a sigh of relief and gave himself a mental pat on the back.